50 Shades of Grey – Chapter Fifteen

So Ana has decided to sign Christian’s contract to become his submissive. I can only hope that means there will be some BDSM at last. In other exciting news, this chapter has taken me over halfway through the book. The end is but eleven more tortuous chapters away.

“Hi,” he says, and his face lights up with his radiant smile. I take a moment to admire the pretty.

Both creepy and clumsy. We’re off to a great start.

He holds up a bottle of champagne … “Nothing beats a good Bollinger.”
“Interesting choice of words,” I comment dryly.
“Oh, I like your ready wit, Anastasia.”

Because she used the word ‘beats’ in an otherwise nonsensical context? This is what passes for wit?

He sees Ana’s wrapped up books, complete with the quote from Tess of the D’Urbervilles.

“Very apt quote … Trust you to find something that resonates so appropriately.”

Alright, EL James, you read ‘Tess’. We get it. Now stop congratulating yourself and get back to the book you’re writing.

“I bought these for you,” he says quietly, his gaze impassive. “I’ll go easier on you if you accept them.”

So you have to accept a lavishly expensive and thoughtful gift, otherwise this man won’t give you the most incredible orgasms you’re ever likely to experience. What to do, what to do?

“Christian, I can’t accept them, they’re just too much.”

You agreed to the contract, love. There’s no more standing up to him.

How can I not think? You can pretend to be a car, like his other possessions.

I would LOVE to see Ana’s car impression. It would make a change from lip-biting.

“I will buy you lots of things, Anastasia. Get used to it. I can afford it. I’m a very wealthy man.”

NO!!! How can one girl withstand stand so much TORTURE?!?!

“It makes me feel cheap,” I murmur.

They’re first edition Thomas Hardys. Cheap you ain’t.

We clink cups, and he takes a drink, but I can’t help thinking this is really about my capitulation.

An understandable feeling, given that you JUST AGREED TO BECOME HIS SUBMISSIVE.

He fills my cup. Is he getting me tipsy?

I don’t see why he’d bother. You’re pretty much a foregone conclusion.

“This place looks pretty bare. Are you ready for the move?”

No, I still have to pack. Ask a stupid question.

“I’d help you move, but I promised to meet my sister at the airport.”
Oh … this is news.

Ah, this helpful little sentence appears again, indicating that a new fact has been revealed, so we should snap out of our erotic reveries and pay attention to the ‘story’.

“Yes, Kate and Elliot, who would have thought?” he murmurs, and for some reason he doesn’t look pleased.

Oh … this is news.

He fishes out another copy of my e-mail and the [soft limits] list. Does he wander about with these lists in his pockets?

When he’s going to a meeting about said lists, yes.

I think there’s one in his jacket that I have. Shit, I’d better not forget that.

I don’t know why this sentence is included, except maybe to set up for someone finding the list later. Bloody nosy Kate, I bet.

“Have you eaten anything?”
Oh no … not this old chestnut.

Old chestnuts aren’t an adequate meal, Ana.

“Next time you roll your eyes at me, I will take you across my knee.”
“Oh,” I breathe…
“Oh … So it begins, Anastasia.”

It’s depressing to see the phrase ‘it begins’ this far into the book. Reminds me of a time I climbed a mountain in China and, after two hours of upward ascent, found a sign that read ‘Climbing starts here.’

Why is that hot?

Because sex.

They start going through the list of soft limits, verbally not physically. Alas.

Careful, though. Too much training and you will be able to dive into her ass.

“And … swallowing semen. Well, you get an A in that.”

Note to self: make a parody sexual report card for Ana. Probably some laughs to be had there.

“Sex toys?” he asks.
I shrug, glancing down the list.

Sorry if we’re boring you, Ana.

“Right – bondage … Well?”
“Fine,” I whisper.

She was the one who wanted to go through these in detail, and now she’s just agreeing to everything. Why did we have chapters and chapters of agonising analysis for THIS?

“A spreader is a bar with cuffs for ankles and/or wrists. They’re fun.”

It sounds delightful. Sign me up.

They discuss pain and how much of it she can take. Which is none, apparently. She seems to have made an unwise decision for somebody who’s afraid of EVERYTHING. Then he says he’s willing to try being her boyfriend (wow.) and he shows her the car he’s bought her for graduation. Then, AT LAST, they go to bed.

Leaning down, he inhales my hair.

Sounds painful.

…he starts to extend my nipples with his long fingers … I gasp at the exquisite, acute pleasure/pain.

There is no excuse for using a forward slash here. Superfluous punctuation has no place in a sex scene.

I feel him against me.

Obviously.

His fingers hook into my panties at the back, stretching them, and he pushes his thumbs through the material, shredding them and tossing them in front of me so I can see.

Christian Thumbs-of-Steel Grey.

I … sit astride him to undo his jeans … feeling the hair in his oh-so-happy trail.

Anastasia Queen-of-Sex-Talk Steele.

Holy Moses, he’s all mine to play with, and suddenly it’s Christmas.

Have we fallen through a time vortex and turned up in December? No, that would be too interesting.

His mouth shapes like a letter O as he takes a sharp breath.

When I take a sharp breath my mouth shapes like the letter N. I have fucking SKILLS.